While she's wondering if she can use him as leverage, he's experimentally tugging on the chains to see how much give they have. Maybe if he can pull them out just enough he'll be able to do something with them. It doesn't seem too promising however, and he lets his arms go slack again as he settles back with a sigh - and a faint shake of his head as well.

"They've got my dirk and my sporran for sure." His Saint Christopher medal, too, but even though he doesn't have any talent for picking locks he's fairly certain it'd not have done much even if it had been there. There's one other thing that might help, however, although it depends on how thorough they'd been. He cranes his head somewhat, trying to get a good look at his leg, without much success.

"I'm no so sure my kilt-pin's still there, either. Don't suppose you're seeing a wee bit of metal near the bottom of my kilt, are you?"